


Military Ties

by YumYumPM



Series: Military Ties [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Disguise, Incognito, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumYumPM/pseuds/YumYumPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When someone in UNCLE finds out about Illya and Napoleon's relationship, Napoleon does noting to deny it and several of their friends take it upon themselves to straighten that person out.  <br/>Originally posted in Incognito - A Man from UNCLE slash e-zine  A zine devoted to stories of Napoleon and/or Illya in disguise.  http://lyrebird.aithine.org/ezine/index.html</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Military Ties

Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin stood straight and tall with his chin up as he adjusted his naval hat atop his head. Not looking at his partner he asked, “How do I look?” 

Napoleon Solo, hands in his pockets, slowly made a 180-degree circle around him, tilting his head to one side as he inspected every inch of his Russian partner before seating himself on the corner of his desk. “I do so love a man in uniform,” he murmured.

This brought a smirk to the face of the blond Russian as he stood there decked out in his Naval Officer’s uniform. Their latest assignment would take them both to his homeland and the uniform was insurance in Illya’s opinion. 

Folding his arms across his chest Napoleon gazed worriedly at the handsome figure his partner made. Recently their partnership had taken a more intimate turn - it was still too new, too fragile and so far secret. Six months ago he’d almost lost Illya due to a senseless mistake on the part of another agent. He’d come to realize just how much the reticent Russian meant to him. Telling Illya had been the hardest part but after Illya got past the disbelief and into acceptance everything fell into place. While Napoleon was willing to shout about it from the top of the highest building, Illya was more cautious.

Trying not to let the worry he felt about this mission show, Napoleon asked indignantly, “Why don’t I ever get to wear a uniform?” 

When Illya reached over and placed his hand over Napoleon’s heart Napoleon was somewhat surprised. 

“Napoleon, you need no uniform,” he said affectionately. He flashed his special shy smile, the one that always made Solo want to reach over and kiss him senseless. He tenderly cupped his hand to Illya’s cheek as he reached to cover the hand that currently lay over his heart.

Mary Ann Williams of UNCLE’s Transportation Department chose that moment to enter Napoleon’s office with a folder containing tickets and visa’s relating to their current case. Illya’s back was to her, but the tender look on the face of the suave Napoleon Solo was enough to give the whole show away. She froze, her face turned to stone, as she handed the folder to Solo before briskly turning to walk out the door.

Napoleon had noticed the look on her face and gently removing Illya’s hand, he hurried after her muttering, “I’ll be right back.” to Illya. He watched her as she walked stiffly down the hall and he cleared his throat before calling in his command voice, “Miss Williams.”

She stopped and turned around her face and voice cold, “Yes, Mr. Solo?” 

He took in her demeanor and in a hard voice said, “I would hate to think that whatever you saw would be subject to gossip. You should know that I’ll do whatever I have to in order to protect Illya.” 

Miss Williams crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “Is that a threat?”

Napoleon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he said somewhat wearily, “No, Mary Ann, it’s not a threat. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I just wanted to impress upon you...Illya is very special and would be very hurt if….” He stopped.

“Are you going to deny…?” Mary Ann demanded.

His relationship with Illya was not tawdry and he was damned if he was going to lie about it. Napoleon looked down at the floor before bringing his gaze back to Mary Ann’s face. “No,” He said softly.

Her face turned uncertain. “Just how much does he mean to you?”

Napoleon looked away before earnestly saying, “He’s my heart.”

The sincerity of his answer made Mary Ann pause. The fact that the ‘Great Napoleon Solo’, the man who had bedded more than half of UNCLE’s female staff, was having an affair with his male partner was a shock. But it wasn’t as if they’d been…Mary Ann shut her eyes…it was best not to let her thoughts go there. She and several other female employees of UNCLE were all rivals for Napoleon’s affections and she was now finding that the thought of his bestowing those affections on his male partner was not quite as disturbing as she had first thought. In fact it was sort of...sweet. Her expression softened. “I promise,” she said.

Napoleon’s eyes brightened as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Thank you.” 

At that very moment, Illya came out of the office while going through the folder and took in the sight before going to stand next to his partner.

Mary Ann, blushing, turned away and left to go back to her work.

The two men started down the hall toward the exit, Illya stared straight ahead as he asked, “What was that all about?”

Napoleon answered absentmindedly, “Oh, nothing.”

Illya gave him a sideward glance. “You are a terrible liar, Napoleon.”

Napoleon, smiled lightly as he replied, “Only with you.”

The satisfied smile stayed on Illya’s face until they reached the airport. 

___________________________

It was going to be a long flight to the USSR and both men had been lucky that their seats were in first class. They felt they were adequately prepared for the mission. Illya was to be the main player and Napoleon was going along as backup. The only real problem Illya felt was the fact that he would have to keep his hands off of Napoleon for the duration of the mission. It would be a great hardship indeed.

Eventually, the cabin’s lights were lowered and the stewardesses passed around blankets and pillows to the passengers. As Illya took his pillow and blanket he acquired a wicked gleam in his eyes that Napoleon did not notice. Turning his body so he was facing his partner, he pretended to go to sleep. When he felt Napoleon was asleep he worked his hand under the blanket covering his partner and ran his hand up Napoleon’s thigh. Napoleon’s eyes popped open at the touch and he turned to look at the blond Russian with surprise.

“Now, Napoleon, you don’t want to make a scene do you?” Illya said wickedly as he put pressure on the now hardening cock beneath his fingers.

Napoleon closed his eyes with a moan. Those fingers were driving him crazy when suddenly they stilled and pulled away. He opened his eyes to see the stewardess peering at him, asking. “Are you alright, sir? Can I get you anything?”

“No, no thank you,” he said with a weak smile before turning to glare at his partner.

Illya merely turned the other way and let out a soft chuckle.

Napoleon grudgingly got up out of his seat, adjusting his jacket to cover his obvious erection. “I’ll get you for this,” he muttered before going to the bathroom to relieve himself. After a while he came back to his seat only to find Illya fast asleep.

“Wicked Russian,” he grumbled as he sat down.

Illya kept his eyes still closed and smirked. “Yes, I know.”  
_________________________

The mission had gone smoothly or as smoothly as can be expected considering. Illya was feeling very tense, almost as if he expected for someone to board the plane any moment and pull him off it to send him to the gulag. Napoleon had been unusually quiet during this time. As the plane took off, Illya let out a sigh of relief and turned to give a considering look to his partner. “Napoleon, is something bothering you?” he asked.

Napoleon was studying the crease in his trousers. “No,” he said as he shook his head. Then he looked into Illya’s concerned eyes. “It’s just that you’re so...different when you’re in that uniform.”

“Different how?”

He appeared to consider. “You’re more cold and impersonal...not like the man I...” He didn’t say love, but it was exactly what he meant.

Illya looked away. “It means nothing. It’s just protective camouflage necessary for survival,” he said harshly. He was having trouble making the transition back from Russian Naval Officer to UNCLE agent and it was making him very tense.

Napoleon leaned back with a sigh. He supposed he would just have to wait it out. He knew one way to ease his partner’s tensions, but Illya had insisted on no public displays of affection. Suddenly Napoleon sat up just a little straighter. That was a rule Illya had already broken. With a satisfying smile, Napoleon knew what he was going to do - it was just a matter of timing.

The time had come. The lights had been lowered and blankets and pillows had been passed out. Napoleon turned his body to face his partner’s as he reached into a pocket of his jacket for his handkerchief. When he was quite sure Illya was asleep, he reached over to burrow his hand under the blanket and unzipped Illya’s pants. Illya nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt Napoleon pull his penis out. “Now, now, Illya, you don’t want to make a scene to you?” Napoleon chided softly. “Spread your legs, luv.”

Illya glared at Napoleon but did as he was bid.

Napoleon sat there with his eyes half closed and a smug smile on his face as he worked the now swelling organ with his hand. Illya was trying hard not to show any expression on his face but wasn’t quite succeeding. His kept his eyes shut as he bit his lips to keep from moaning. It was all Illya could do to keep from thrusting into the hand working him. Soon Napoleon could tell the task was nearly done and he used his handkerchief to trap the semen as it came shooting out.  
Illya sat there making deep gasping sounds as the orgasm hit him. When he was able to focus again it was a smug Napoleon that he saw. “You are an evil American. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Napoleon just shook his head wishing he could plant a kiss on those tempting lips. “I’ll be fine.”  
He got up out of his seat to go to the men’s room and alleviate his problem himself as well as getting rid of the handkerchief.  
___________________________

“Why don’t we stop at headquarters and leave off our report?” Napoleon asked as he put his suitcase in the back of the car. “Then go on to my place to get you out of that uniform?”

Illya looked at Napoleon over the top of the car. “I thought you loved a man in uniform?’

“Oh, I do. But I love him better out of it,” Napoleon stated as he got behind the wheel.

Illya hid a smile as he slid in beside his partner and they started off.

They pulled up in front of Del Floria’s Tailor Shop and entered UNCLE Headquarters. Their first stop was to Mr. Waverly’s office to turn in their report. Lisa Rogers was sitting at her desk outside his office and informed them. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Waverly won’t be able to see you for at least twenty minutes.” 

“That’s okay. It will give me time to go change,” Illya said with a smile. 

Lisa, her arms crossed on top of the desk asked, “So, Napoleon, how was Russia?”

Napoleon hitched himself on the corner of her desk. “Cold, very cold.”

Illya couldn’t help but smile as he continued down the hall thinking how typical of Napoleon that statement was.  
___________________________

Mary Ann had just slipped into the office as the two agents were finishing their verbal reports. She silently went behind Mr. Waverly to drop off a folder he had asked for. 

Mr. Waverly, puffing away on his pipe, asked. “What’s this I hear about you and Mr. Kuryakin engaging in a so-called love affair?”

Mary Ann froze before straightening up in surprise. She looked at Napoleon to see him glaring angrily at her. Shaking her head she mouthed. “I swear, I never…” 

“Mr. Solo, you needn’t glare at Miss Williams like that, I do have other sources.” At this point Mary Ann made a quick exit. “Now, what I want to know is are you two engaged in illicit behavior?”

Napoleon looked over at Illya, whose face was extremely pale. “Ah, could you rephrase that question just a bit - Sir?”

Mr. Waverly glared at him.

“I don’t happen to consider what Illya and I have as illicit.”

Mr. Waverly sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. I would never have expected such behavior from two of UNCLE’s top enforcement agents. Unfortunately, this will require some thought. You are both suspended for three days pending review.”

The two men got up at the dismissal, their faces solemn. Mary Ann and Lisa were talking quietly and both men ignored them as they continued to walk down the hall and out of UNCLE.  
___________________________

Napoleon leaned against the door after shutting it and setting the alarm to his apartment. He felt the warmth of Illya’s body against his back as the Russian’s arms wrapped around him. 

“I’m sorry, Napoleon,” Illya told him resting his head on Napoleon’s shoulder.

Napoleon turned and looked into those troubled blue eyes. “You – sorry? I don’t think you’ve ever been sorry for anything since the day we started working together. In fact, I didn’t even know the word was in your vocabulary,” he quipped with amusement.

The troubled eyes brightened and the corners of Illya’s mouth quirked up as he responded, “You’re right of course.” His expression changed and turned serious. “It’s just that this is not a very good time…”

“It’s never a good time,” Napoleon agreed with a sigh. “However, I remember something said about getting you out of uniform?” He turned and grabbed Illya holding him at arms length, as he looked him over.

“Napoleon, in case you haven’t noticed I am no longer wearing a uniform.” Illya shook his head his eyes dancing in delight.

“Technicalities,” Napoleon responded as he pulled his partner into the bedroom with plans to ravish him at the earliest possible moment.

Illya hung back. “Maybe we shouldn’t?” Now that Mr. Waverly knew he couldn’t help but feel that any action of this nature could only hurt them.

“We might as well be hung for a lion as a lamb,” Napoleon argued as he brought him closer to the bed and started to help Illya out of his clothing.

“I have never understood that saying,” was all Illya got to say before Napoleon pulled him close for a deep and passionate kiss. Their mouths dueled for control, causing their bodies to react.

It was with great difficulty that Napoleon pulled away to take off his jacket as he loosened his tie. His hands trembled with desire as he hurriedly removed his clothing never taking his eyes off the body of his lover.

Illya stood there taking in not only Napoleon’s gaze but also the words he had spoken. This could well be the last time they made love he thought as he bit his lower lip. Why not go all the way and make this time special? With a wicked gleam in his eye he turned and headed for the bathroom in search of the one item that would make this a little easier.

“Hey, where are you going?” Napoleon called out to him.

“You’ll see,” he called back before reentering the bedroom.

A now nude Napoleon had gotten into the bed and was placing his watch on the nightstand. Illya climbed into the bed behind Napoleon and ran his hands lightly down Napoleons hips, caressing his skin. He felt Napoleon’s body ripple with desire under his hands. He ran his hands over Napoleon’s soft ass before taking the lotion he had found in the bathroom and pouring some onto his fingers. 

Napoleon lay on his side, enjoying the caresses and was somewhat surprised when a cool digit entered his rectum. “What the fuck…? he gasped, startled, as he turned to look over his shoulder.

“An appropriate choice of words,” Illya said sardonically as he considered his next actions. “Napoleon? I know we’ve never…?” He silently asked for permission.

Napoleon considered what Illya was asking and nodded. He could feel Illya using first one finger and then another to stretch him and he couldn’t resist groaning at the enticing feeling it gave him as it hit his prostrate. 

Illya withdrew his fingers to apply the cool lotion to his swollen erection. Returning to his position behind Napoleon he gently licked his shoulder before biting it to mask any pain that Napoleon might feel as he entered him 

Napoleon cried out as he felt pain in two locations at once. He shook as he was entered slowly and smoothly. The pain soon melted into only feelings of pleasure as he reacted the feeling of being filled.

Illya paused to savor the feeling of Napoleon’s muscles contracting around his cock before thrusting deeper. The action got rougher as Napoleon, with gasps of ecstasy, pushed back hard against him. The feeling of being inside Napoleon was intoxicating. He reached one hand around to wrap around Napoleon’s leaking cock and started pumping it in rhythm to his thrusts. Napoleon’s cock soon let loose its load. As he shuddered with completion the feeling of pleasure soon drove Illya to the edge and soon he began to come, flooding his partner. After taking a few minutes to catch his breath he slipped out and rolled over. “Are you okay?” he asked Napoleon when he was able to.

Napoleon turned over his body still shaky from being possessed and gazed at him affectionately. “Just how long have you wanted to do that?” he asked as he pulled Illya close before closing his eyes as exhaustion took over.

Later that night, Illya lay there staring up at the ceiling. Napoleon looked at him questioningly. “I will probably be sent back to Russia,” Illya remarked.

Napoleon grunted as he got up and went over to the safe that was near his bed. Once he opened the safe he started tossing stacks of bills behind him, causing them to land on the bed with Illya.

Illya looked at the pile of bills in amazement. “Napoleon, where did you…? When did you…? Why…?”

Napoleon climbed back onto bed. “Okay, where? I liquidated all my holdings except for the Pursang. There’s a hundred and fifty dollars there. When? Last month and why? Do you really have to ask? It’s yours should worse come to worse. I want you to take it and the Pursang and get as far away as you can.”

“No. I won’t do it,” Illya said pushing the money back at Napoleon. “Not without you.”

“Illya, one hundred and fifty thousand will go much further…” Napoleon sighed, but Illya had turned away. “Please.”

Illya was not having any of it. “We sink or swim together,” he stated.

Napoleon tried another tactic. He moved behind his lover and slowly worked his hands over his body in that way he knew made him crazy. He turned Illya so he was flat on the bed and he began kissing his way down his chest licking first one nipple then the other. Illya trembled beneath him as Napoleon continued his ministrations. He gave each nipple a last nip before going down to the now very aroused organ and taking it in his mouth, sucking away until Illya arched his body and came flooding his mouth with his seed. He lay there holding the Russian’s body giving him time to recover. Soon they both fell back asleep.

Napoleon awoke hearing sounds coming from his kitchen and realized he was alone in his bed. Pulling on his robe, he went in search of his partner. A most erotic sight caught his eye as he entered the kitchen to find a very naked Russian helping himself to some fresh coffee. He came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him in a gentle hug.

Illya smiled as the arms around him before one of the hands went down to cup his groin. “Would you care for a cup of coffee, Napoleon?” he asked.

Napoleon began nibbling Illya’s neck while his hand worked the lax organ, causing it to grow harder. “I think I’ll just enjoy you first.” Touching Illya’s compact body was exciting him greatly as Illya started thrusting into his hand.

Illya’s body trembled as he leaned back against Napoleon as he looked down at the hand milking him. When he was close he couldn’t resist remarking his breathing raspy. “Napoleon, this is not the sort of cream I wish in my coffee.”

With a laugh Napoleon used his free hand to take the cup from Illya’s hand and set it on the counter while he finished bringing Illya to the brink and beyond.

___________________________

Forty-eight hours later they were back at headquarters. Not knowing if they were ever going to have another chance, they had made the most of those forty-eight hours and they were extremely tired. As they walked down the hall lined with secretaries they couldn’t help but notice a number of section two agents standing around the water cooler. The agent doing the most talking was one Rick Richards, formerly with the CIA. While a competent agent, Richards was a thorough asshole. When Napoleon and Illya made to move past them, Richards moved to block them from going further and said loudly, “Well if it isn’t the two resident fags. I suppose you two have been getting it on while you were gone?” 

Nobody noticed as one of the secretaries picked up her phone and murmured, “DK one-Richards.”

“Listen, Richards, if you have a problem…,” Napoleon started to say angrily when Illya moved to stop him.

“Napoleon, pay no attention to him. He is not worth it.”

Richards face reddened as he started toward Illya. “Why you commie queer...”

Everyone turned as high-heeled footsteps could be heard striding down the hall. Karen Dulls from accounting was advancing with a large folder. “Mr. Richards, I have here two years worth of expenditures and unless you can verify all the charges circled in red any excesses will be taken out of your salary.”

Richards looked at the huge folder she had thrust into his hands. “Huh?”

Miss Dulls turned and looked at all the other agents standing around. “Would anyone else like to have their expense reports audited?”

As one all the agents shook their heads no.

“Good,” she said as she turned to go back the way she came, but not before winking at Napoleon and giving the thumbs up to the secretary who had made the call. Operation Defend Kuryakin was a major success.

Napoleon and Illya entered Mr. Waverly’s office in a somber state. “Sit down, gentlemen, ” Mr. Waverly said gruffly. “I have been going over your records of the past year. I don’t know when this ‘relationship’ of yours began but I can’t see where it has in any way affected your performance.” 

Both men let out a sigh of relief.

“However,” he continued. “I see no reason for UNCLE to maintain two residences when one will suffice. Report to housing for your new accommodations. I expect you both to vacate your current residences and move immediately. After all, we’re not made out of money here. Now off with you,” he said with a slight twinkle in his eye.

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other in surprise and said, “Yes, sir,” as they got up to obey Mr. Waverly’s order.

Once they were out the door Napoleon turned to Illya, “I wonder what sort of accommodations we’ll get.”

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” replied the dour Russian.

Miss Rogers looked up. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said with a knowing smile. 

The End.


	2. It Looks Like the Honeymoon is over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to go wrong after Napoleon and Illya move in together. 
> 
> “previously posted elsewhere as He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not”  
> By YumYumPM  
> Sequel to Military Ties  
> 2005 revised

Two agents entered the security entrance of the U.N.C.L.E. and claimed their badges. Illya Kuryakin grim faced, Napoleon Solo, his American partner, solemn. The Russian-born blond marched down the steel grey halls of U.N.C.L.E grumbling under his breath as he went. “Really, Napoleon, I see no reason to squeeze the toothpaste in the middle.” This minor issue, one of many, directed at Napoleon passed through his consciousness as he let out a sigh of resignation and followed in his wake. He had only done it once under insinuating circumstances.

Illya for some unknown reason was determined to be critical of late. Napoleon had given up unable to come up with an adequate defense. Colliding with Mark Slate as he exited out of the office he shared with his partner April Dancer, Illya gave a curt nod to the Brit before turning a scowling gaze toward Napoleon and saying tersely, “Should you need me I will be in the lab.” 

Napoleon stood at the door to his office, his eyes bleak, wondering what would set his volatile lover off next. 

Mark’s eyes followed Illya’s receding back, noting the rigidity in his stride. Turning, he gave Napoleon a speculative look before remarking cheerfully, “Well, Guv, it would appear the honeymoon stage is finally over.” The glare Napoleon turned on him made him quickly throw in. “Sorry,” before rushing away.

Napoleon Solo suppressed a sigh of frustration as he entered his office and sat down at his desk. Though it was piled high with folders needing his attention, he found he could not concentrate. After looking at the same folder for ten minutes and Napoleon still had no idea of what it said. “Damn it, Illya. I love you to death, but you’re slowly driving me crazy,” he muttered under his breath. The headache that had tormented him most of the morning returned with a vengeance. And after thirty minutes of continued inability to concentrate, he closed the folder and made his way toward the security exit. “I’ll be back later,” he mumbled to the receptionist as he handed her his badge on the way out. Maybe a short walk was what he needed to clear his mind.

Illya glanced at his watch - one o’clock. He thought guiltily about his behavior toward Napoleon this morning and decided to go in search of his partner. Trying Napoleon’s office first, then the commissary he found no sign of his partner. Finally he checked with reception. “Has Napoleon come out through here?” 

“Yes, Mr. Kuryakin. As a matter of fact he left several hours ago. I had the impression he expected to be back, though. Do you want me to tell him you’re looking for him when he returns?” 

“No, I’ll catch up to him later.” Illya frowned as he went back to the lab to continue his work.

IK/NS

Napoleon exited Del Floria’s Tailor Shop and automatically started walking, his mind deep in turmoil. Perhaps their moving in together had been too soon. Their relationship from friend and partners to lovers was still new. Over the past week, Illya had done nothing but complain, he was obviously miserable and Napoleon couldn’t figure out why. Gone were the gentle touches, the lustful glances, the mind-blowing sex and while he loved the stoic Russian, he wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. It was getting to the point that Napoleon was seriously contemplating leaving.

 

Was it only nine weeks ago that they had gone abroad to investigate a certain castle in the Baltics? They had managed to enter the supposedly empty castle, finding everything eerily quiet. Their guns drawn, the two agents moved to the center of the foyer, Illya tilted his head to one side. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what? I don’t hear anything,” Napoleon said. He listened intently but couldn’t hear anything.

“Someone is whistling,” Illya said as he made a complete 360 degree turn trying to track down the noise. Suddenly he stopped and turned back a few degrees. “There,” he said pointing with his gun. 

Napoleon followed Illya down a dark hallway, soon finding out it was a mistake when they found themselves surrounded and captured, their hands cuffed behind their backs, before being thrown into a dank cell in the tower of an ancient castle. Their captors, aware of all the little gadgets that could be used for escape had taken anything of use away from them. The only clothing left to them were their slacks, undershirts, and socks; even their underwear had been taken, though for what possible reason neither agent could comprehend. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time and in all probability wasn’t going to be the last. Illya had been disgruntled then too. 

After exhausting every means of possible escape, the two men waited for someone to appear to check on them. Straining their ears, they were met with silence. In fact the whole place was so quiet that Napoleon wondered if anyone was still there besides them. He went over to the slot that served as a window and looked down. The castle was perched high on a cliff overlooking of all things a beach. Napoleon’s eyes widened, surely his imagination was playing tricks on him, for this was not just a beach, but a nude beach. He blinked twice. Far below beneath the castle lay a stretch of sand upon which a myriad of naked bodies lay, letting the sun caress their bodies. The sight of so many lovely lasses frolicking in the water caused his body to react in its usual fashion. Damn, trapped in a castle and no way to get down there, this was torture of the worse sort.

He turned and looked contemplatively at the slight blond Russian sitting uncomfortably on the stone floor. “Illya?” 

Illya looked at his partner, seeing the look reflected in the warm dark eyes, stated firmly, “No, absolutely not.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask,” Napoleon said, then his eyes followed the path of Illya’s stare. He was embarrassed to note the mound clearly visible through his pants. Going over he sat down clumsily next to his partner, their bodies touching. “Really, Illya, haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like if we...?”

“I can safely say no.”

“We could die here. Think of it, wouldn’t it be a shame not to know that we could have done it and didn’t?” Napoleon reasoned. He remembered the first time someone had used that argument with him, in Korea. It might seem juvenile but it had worked.

Illya considered that. “There is a flaw to that logic somewhere, but for the life of me I can not find it.”

“So you’ll do it?” Napoleon said with ill concealed delight.

Illya didn’t bother answering; he just scooted over till he was sitting with his back to Napoleon, his body flanked by his partner’s outstretched legs. With the hands that were cuffed behind his back, Illya started massaging Napoleon’s hardened cock through his pants. Napoleon groaned with unmistakable pleasure, the sound causing a wicked smile to flitter across the Russian’s face. It wasn’t easy but he managed to free Napoleon’s erection from its confinement and continued stroking it. Not an easy task as Napoleon started to wiggle and it slipped from his grasp. “Napoleon, please be still,” Illya commanded as the older agent leaned forward and brushed his lips on the back of his neck, sending shivers of delight down his back eventually arriving at his groin.

“I can’t help it. It feels so good,” Napoleon replied.

Illya growled in frustration unable to get a firm grasp on the hardened cock behind him. He scooted away, causing Napoleon to object somewhat vocally. Being more limber than Napoleon, he worked his manacled hands under his butt then along his thighs to his feet and with some difficulty brought them to the front of his body.

With his hands now in front of him, he turned around and straddled his partner, putting his cuffed hands to where they could do the most good. Using one hand to cradle the sacs beneath the hard cock, he managed to use the other to bring Napoleon to the completion he so urgently sought. Wiping his semen-covered hand on Napoleon’s undershirt, Illya smirked, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Napoleon murmured as Illya’s nimble fingers reinserted his privates back inside his pants and zipped him up again. Napoleon could not resist leaning forward to claim his partner’s mouth with his. Illya’s eyes widened before closing as he melted under the assault.

The sound of several THRUSH agents’ footsteps had them rolling apart. Bordering each side of the door, the two U.N.C.L.E. agents quickly and efficiently overcame the THRUSH agents who evidently planned to cart them off, then made their escape. The two agents, once they made their way back to New York, agreed that nothing of a personal nature should be written in their reports.

Napoleon regretfully put the incident out of his mind, feeling that there would never again be another chance. Which just goes to prove how wrong someone can be. Napoleon had gone in search of his partner and been informed by a passing Mark Slate that Illya had been seen entering the map room. Napoleon had often used the map room for other more interesting pursuits; the only thing Illya ever used it for was reading maps. That they were not currently on an assignment made the whole thing puzzling.

Entering the map room Napoleon found Illya standing against a table his eyes closed in intense concentration. “Illya?”

“Go away,” Illya pleaded through clenched teeth. He had been on his way to the commissary when his body reacted to an unusual wave of desire, which lately had been sweeping over him. The only thing he could think to do was to hide away in the map room and do his best to control it. Damn Napoleon.

Napoleon touched his partner’s shoulder, surprised by the trembling he felt there.

“Napoleon, just leave,” Illya begged, his knuckles white from the grip he had on the table.

Napoleon didn’t know what had brought his partner to this state. He turned the Russian to face him and his eyes widened at the sight of the bulging trousers before Illya managed to shrug off his hand and turn back to the table. Perhaps Illya had not been as unaffected by their encounter as Napoleon had thought. 

Napoleon stood there a moment before going to the map room door and locking it. Returning to his partner, he licked his lips as he turned Illya back toward him. “Let me help you. After all it’s the least I can do,” he murmured before reaching down to undo Illya’s zipper and pull out the straining erection. Going down on his knees he licked the slit that was leaking precum before swallowing the rest and sucking away. It wasn’t long before Illya’s semen gushed forth and he swallowed it. Illya had not uttered a sound the entire time as he leaned against the table trying to get his breathing under control. Napoleon gently pulled Illya’s clothing back into place and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before leaving him to get himself together.

Looking back on it, he felt it must have been fate. Later, he had cornered Illya and managed to convince him that the only cure for what ailed him was regular sessions. Soon of course, Mr. Waverly found out and insisted that if they were to continue in that fashion it wouldn’t do for U.N.C.L.E. to pay for two apartments when one would be adequate. And it had been more then adequate, that is up until recently.

IK/NS

 

Napoleon was startled to find himself soaking wet. Checking his watch, he noted that he’d been walking for hours unaware that it was pouring down. He decided it was time to head back to the apartment and get into some dry clothing. Unfortunately he hadn’t the faintest idea where he was at the moment, something totally out of character for him, to top it off he might be catching a cold.

It was late when he entered the apartment and he stood on the threshold wondering if this might be the last time he would see it. He let his gaze run over the expansive living area. The comfortable sofa on which he and Illya relaxed close together in front of the fireplace on cold nights. The wall of bookshelves, crammed full of books that were Illya’s delight. The gourmet kitchen was his special territory, situated under the loft that contained their bedroom.

Illya came down the stairs from that loft, catching sight of his dripping wet lover, remarked with disgust, “Really, Napoleon, must you drip all over.”

Napoleon didn’t respond as he passed the Russian up on the way up the stairs to the bathroom. This latest criticism was just one of many. There didn’t seem to be much point in answering. Whatever he said wouldn’t be the right thing. Removing his wet garments, he left them lying on the floor. Illya would complain about that too he was sure. He turned the shower taps on hot, hoping to warm his cold, aching body. When he felt warmer, he left the shower putting on a dry robe. 

Illya was waiting outside the door with a stiff drink. He handed it to Napoleon and asked, “What were you doing out in the rain?”

Napoleon didn’t answer as he took the drink and headed down the stairs. Illya looked over the railing that bordered their bedroom and called after him. “Aren’t you coming to bed?” 

Napoleon went over to the bookcase and removed a book. “Later,” he croaked, not looking in Illya’s direction, before settling down in a chair by the fire. 

An hour later Illya looked over the railing again, into the living area below. Napoleon was still sitting with the book, but he had not turned a page in the last ten minutes as far as Illya could tell. Starting down the stairs, he stopped midway down to sit. With his elbows on his knees, his hands under his chin, Illya regarded his partner. Napoleon did not look happy. Part of it was the fact that he’d been soaking wet and was sniffling, the other part... Illya’s voice faltering as he asked, “Napoleon? Have you grown disenchanted with me?”

Napoleon looked up in surprise, a sneezed escaping. Disenchanted? With Illya? Where had Illya possibly gotten the idea? Who was the one doing all the complaining? Could that be...? Did Illya honestly think...? Right now he was too tired and achy to figure out the answers. Another sneeze escaped as he got up from his chair and started up the stairs, stopping when he got to his partner and grunting, “Crazy Russian. There’s a bed up there with my name on it.” He smiled lightly, relieved when Illya followed him.

Illya woke up during night, finding Napoleon restless with a hacking cough. Napoleon’s body radiated heat to the touch. When Illya tried to awaken him, he was alarmed to find that he could not. Placing a call to the medical section at U.N.C.L.E., they listened to the symptoms before suggesting he bring Napoleon in. 

Illya somehow managed to get Napoleon dressed and to the medical section. A thorough check suggested that the unconscious American agent had fallen victim to a recurring case of pneumonia. Antibiotics were administered right way, the doctor in charge assuring Illya that while Napoleon would be incapacitated, he was in no danger. Mr. Waverly, upon hearing of the incident, dropped by and rather tersely informed Illya that he should take better care of his partner.

Napoleon regained consciousness, surprised to find himself not in his bed at the apartment, but in the medical section. He found Illya asleep in a chair next to his bed. “Illya?” He croaked.

Illya started, getting up he filled a glass with water, handing it to Napoleon as he pushed himself up. Napoleon took one sip and started choking. Illya moved swiftly to pat him on the back, waiting anxiously for the coughing to stop. Once Napoleon was back in control, he looked at Illya and said quietly, “We need to talk.” 

“What about?” Illya asked as he turned away to look out the window.

“Why?” Napoleon frowned.

“Why what?” Illya responded carefully avoiding Napoleon’s sharp gaze.

“Why…are you so unhappy? What possible reason…what have I done to indicate that I…?” Napoleon said, unable to keep the distress he felt out of his voice. “Where have we gone wrong?”

Illya paused before admitting reluctantly. “I don’t know if we’ve ‘gone wrong’ or not. I just could not help but notice when we returned from our last mission … you flirted with the stewardess. I could tell that you were – aroused,” Illya said miserably.

Napoleon thought back. What stewardess? The last mission? Surely not the blonde who’d reminded him of Illya? He remembered looking forward to retuning to their apartment and the plans he had for Illya later that night. “I remember that night - it was - fantastic.” Napoleon said dreamily as he took Illya’s hand pulling him closer to the bed.

“Because you were thinking of her,” Illya countered the hurt evident in his voice.

“Illya, Illya, I most certainly was not thinking about her,” Napoleon insisted as he absently touched the ring on Illya’s finger. Shaking his head he asked, “How could you think that?”

Illya turned away. It was obvious that he thought Napoleon was ready to stray. That he was not sure of Napoleon. 

Napoleon sighed, bringing the hand to his lips, kissing the ring he’d been fooling with. Gently he removed it from Illya’s finger and placed it on his own, then he removed the ring from his pinkie transferring it to Illya’s finger. Hopefully this gesture would say what Napoleon knew any declaration from him could not. 

Illya looked down and turned the ring that now graced his finger; his eyes searched the beseeching brown eyes of his lover and softened with sudden understanding. He leaned forward and set a chaste kiss on Napoleon’s lips. “We have much to…discuss…once you are home,” he whispered.

Napoleon closed his eyes, a smug smile on his face. He could hardly wait to find out how the ‘discussion.’ would go.

THE END.


End file.
